Phantom of the Opera
by GarbageCannotCan
Summary: Bellamione phantom of the opera with a twist.
1. Prologue

i dont own shit

—-

Paris, 1919

The bells tolled in the distance, nothing but a bleak building stood in front of them. Cars passed honking their horns and people passed by, not giving the "Public Auction Today" banner a second glance. Kids ran up ramps leading into the building, and their parents watched, unaware of history the stood upon. A car pulled up and a man was escorted out of it, placed in a wheelchair as his legs didnt seem to work any longer. A blanket given to him for the cold.

He was taken inside of the Of the burnt building. An auctioneers voice met his ears nearly immediately. "Sold. Your number, sir? Thank you. Lot 663, then, ladies and gentlemen." The man was wheeled around debris and cobwebs that littered the area. "A poster from this house's production of Hannibal by Chalumeau." They interned a room to see many men bidding on items. The poster currently on display.

As the men debated prices and negotiated, the impaired man looked around. Memories clouded his eyes. "Eight once. Selling twice. Sold!" A gavel being hit against a counter echoed around the room. Two men picked up the large standing poster and took it away and the auctioneer started the next item. "Lot 664, a wooden pistol and three human skulls, from the 1831 production of Robert le diable by Meyerbeer." The wheeled man doesn't listen as the auctioneer rambles of history. His skin prickles as he feels a woman's stare on him, he turns. A woman, old, red hair and a plump body. He'd know her anywhere. He also knew exactly why she was there. For the same reason he was.

They stared at each other for a second before the man looked back to the auctioneer, _waiting_. "Lot 665, ladies and gentlemen. A papier-mâché musical box in the shape of a barrel organ." A young man walks around presenting the item. "Attached, the figure of a monkey in Persian robes playing the cymbals. This item, discovered in the vaults of the theater, still in working order, ladies and gentlemen."

"Showing here." The young man holding the monkey announces. He clicks the box and a melody chimes around the room. The cymbals, though not perfectly aligned, play anyway. A soft clicking as they meet entrances the listener. "May i commence at 15 francs?" The stout auctioneer says, interrupting the music box as it still plays. A man raises his hand, then the wheeled man, offering 20, then the woman. "Madame Weasley, 25. Thank you, madame. Twenty-five i am bid. Do i hear 30?" The young woman standing beside the wheeled man raises her hand.

"35?" The auctioneer asks. Madame Weasley glances at the wheeled man, a soft, tired smile graces her face. She turns to the auctioneer and shakes her head. "Selling at 30 francs, then. Thirty once, 30 twice." The gavel shakes the air as it meets wood. A sigh let out from the wheeled man as it does. "Sold for 30 francs to Mr. Harry Potter. Thank you, sir." The music box is handed to him and he grapples for it. Madame Weasley watches him closely.

 _A collectors piece indeed_

 _Every detail_

 _Exactly as she said_

 _Will you still play_

 _When all the rest of us are dead?_

A tear leaves the wheeled mans eyes. Before he can get too lost in memories the auctioneers voice cuts in, "Lot 666, then. A chandelier in pieces. Some of you may recall the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera. A mystery never fully explained. We're told, ladies and gentlemen, that this is the very chandelier which figures in the famous disaster. Our workshops have repaired it and wired parts off it for the new electric light." The wheeled man was turned to face the rear of the room. Madame Weasley turned around with the rest, albeit more slowly.

"Perhaps we can frighten away the ghost of so many years ago, with a little, _illumination_. Gentlemen!"

As the sheet was dramatically pulled off, The chords of an organ could be heard playing in the minds of some people in the room The lights lit up instantly and men in the stands above hoisted the chandelier up with rope. Birds started, flapped away through holes that still littered the roof. Dust blowing around, as if the spirit of the phantom had been disturbed.

The area seemed to sweep together as if it was coming back to life, the color returned and the chandelier seemed to beam in its refound glory. The leaves and muck surrounding the seats were blown away and statues returned to their original state. The room seemed to glow again, old memories sprang back to the forefront of minds, and the start of a tragedy, begins.


	2. Chaptper 1

Paris, 1870

The streets clean and the opera house shining with its golden highlights. Horse pulling carriages and women with strollers walking along the cobbled ground. Two impeccably dressed men step out of a carriage, shaking the hands of no doubt a greeter for the house. Smiles grace their face as they can almost hear the banging music from inside. The rough pounding of foot beats running down stairs, they yelling of production workers, and the clanking of props. This, is where we begin our fatal tale.

"Come on Hermione, before we're late!" Ginny said pulling Hermione along. They dabbed their shoes in powder and join the other dancers in their warm ups. Mrs Weasley their guiding the others. The shrill voice of the main singer could be heard outside on the stage. LaCarlotta, a good looking woman with a voice as ear aching as her temper tantrums. Hermione watched the maids in the bottom level laugh as they made fun of her. Making motions to their ears signaling they needed something to stop the sound.

Hermione nudged Ginny and they both laughed silently, mentally preparing for practice. The first group of much older dancers, strode out onto stage and began to sing.

With feasting and dancing and song

Tonight in celebration

We greet the victorious throng

Returned to bring salvation

A horse drawn carriage outside being taken into stables. A young, handsome man, being greeted by the impeccably dressed men as they make their way to the opera house. "Potter, welcome."

The trumpets of Carthage resound

Hear, Romans, and now tremble

Hark to our step on the ground

Hear the drums

Hannibal comes

LaCarlotta trips a bit during the practice, quick to turn to the dress makers and complain. "You make my dress too long!" She hisses and the main actor walks out.

Sad to return to find the land we love

Threatened once more by Roma's far-reaching grasp

The conductor bellow the stage tapping his baton on his book, ceasing the rehearsal. "Gentlemen, gentleman..." He is cut off by the manager before he can criticize the workers. A dramatic sigh escapes him as he loses the focus of the actors.

"Rehearsals, as you can see, are underway for a new production of Chalumeau's Hannibal." Monsieur Lefevre leads the two well dressed men to the front to meet who'll they will be mainly working with. "Monsieur Lefevre, I am rehearsing!" The lead actor says, his red painted checks only becoming redder. "Monsieur Reyer, Madame Weasley. Ladies and gentlemen, please." Monsieur Lefevre addresses everyone, Madame Weasley turning from where she was stretching to listen.

"If i could have your attention? Thank you. As you know, for some weeks there have been rumors of my imminent retirement. I can now tell you that these were all true and it is my pleasure to introduce you to the tow gentlemen who now own the Opera Populaire. Monsieur Richard Firmin and Monsieur Gilles Andre." He points to the taller gentlemen and then the shorter one with grey hair sticking out everywhere.

The cast clap lightly as others make faces to show their opinions of their new bosses. "I'm sure you have read of their recent fortune amassed in junk business." "Scrap metal, actually." Andre corrects his chest puffed a bit in defense of his career. Monsieur Lefevre smiles but doesn't correct himself allowed.

"He must be rich" On of the girls whispers. Hermione watches them uninterested and looks at Ginny who is listening to some of the girls gossip. "And we are deeply honored to introduce our new patron. The Mr. Harry Potter!" Richard announces to them. "I still cant believe we managed to get him. Its such a coup for us" He says as the workers clap again. Ginny, Hermione, and the rest of the girls go up to see the new man.

"Thats Harry." Hermione says breathlessly. Seeing him after all of these years was like a slap to the face. Ginny glances at her for San explanation as Harry walks over to the men. "Before my Mother died, at the house by the sea... I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts. He called me 'Mione." Hermione says dazed by Harrys sudden appearance.

"Hermione, he's so handsome" Ginny whispered into her ear. The girls stopped their gossip over Mr. Potter as soon as he began to speak. "My parents and I are honored to support all the arts, especially the world-renowned Opera Popilaire." They began to clap again as Madame Carlotta made her way to Harry, hand stuck out as if she was royalty. "Signora Carlotta Giudicelli, our leading soprano for five seasons." The maids yelled for her in the back showing their loyalty and support. "Ahem!" Sounded near the front of the stage as Signor Ubaldo Piangi waited expectantly. They introduced him as well and the supporting dancers all clapped along.

"A honor Signor. I believe im keeping you from your rehearsal. I will be here this evening to share your great triumph." He looked to Signor Piangi, "My apologies, Monsieur." He nodded to everyone and slipped away. "Thank you, Monsieur Potter." Reyer said as Mr. Potter left. The conductor spoke up finally, "Once more if you please, Signor." The workers in the stands started back up again and the twittering of "He love me. He love me. He love me" Could be heard as LaCarlotta was fixed up.

Hermione waited as Harry approached her but ended up walking right past her. She smiled embarrassed and turned to Ginny. "He wouldn't recognize me." "He didnt see you." Ginny corrected, rubbing her shoulder. They both looked back to the stage as the rehearsal started back up again. "If you please. Monsieur."

Madame Weasley said ushering Andre and Richard away form the stage.

The female dancers ran out as soon as they were out of the way. "We take particular pride in the excellence of our ballet, messieurs." Madame Weasley said pointing to the girls as they rolled and glided around. Feet seeming to never touch the ground. "I see why." Andre said, enraptured in the movement and exposed skin of the young women.

"Especially that little blonde angle." He smiled nodding towards Ginny. "My daughter, Ginny Weasley." Madame Weasley said, some defense in her voice. "And that exceptional beauty. No relation, i trust?" Richard said realizing that's Madame Weasleys daughter was a no go. "Hermione Granger. Promising talent, Monsieur Firmin. Very promising." Madame Weasley said, pride leaking into her voice as Hermione rolled and dramatically reached around to the tune of the music.

"Granger, did you say? No relation to the famous Swedish violinist?" Andre said eyes wide. "Her only child. Orphaned at 7 when she came to love and train in the ballet dormitories." "An orphan you say?" Richard says, lust in his tone. "I think of her as a daughter also." Madame Weasley snaps. "Gentlemen, if you would kindly stand to one side." Madame Weasley pushed them over away from the ballerinas and the men laughed together as a chain prop was places around Andre.

Hannibal's friends

The song came to an end as the annoyed voice of LaCarlotta cut it, her dress having ripped. "Not on my dress! Why?" She went back to smiling after having glared at Signor Piangi. A giant elephant figure rolled out onto stage and Large cardboard elephant posters rolled out to the sides.

The trumpeting elephants sound

Hear, Romans, now and tremble

Hark to their step on the ground

Hear the drums

Hannibal comes

The song comes to an end has Signor Piangi falls and loses his head piece. LaCarlotta looking directly at her new managers as she hits the long, high notes. A fierce look in her eyes to make it known, she is the best. The ballerinas bow as the music dies out.

"All day! All they want is the dancing!" LaCarlotta yells as she leaves the stage. "Well, the vicomte is very excited about tonight's gala.-"

"Ah ah ha, ah, ha. Allora, allora, allora. I hope he is as excited by dancing girls as your new managers! Because I will not be singing! Andiamo, Tutti. No, it's finito! Finished. Get my doggy, bring my doggy. Bye-bye." LaCarlottas yelling continues as she walks away from the startled men. An amused look on the ex-managers face. "What do we do?" Andre asks. "Grovel. Grovel, grovel." He says Motioning with his hands for Andre and Richard to chance after her.

"See you later, because im going now. It is finished."

"Principessa! Bella diva!" Andre yells after her. "Si, si, si." She still has an angered look so they continue. "Goddess of song!" Richard adds "Monsieur Reyer, isnt there a rather marvelous aria for Elissa in Act 3 of Hannibal? Perhaps the Signora?" Andre goes on ignoring the conductors frightened eyes. "Yes, yes, yes, ma no! Because i have not my costume for Act 3. Because somebody not finish it! AND i hate my hat!" LaCarlotta rants. The costume designers tensing up.

"But i wonder, Signora, as a personal favor, if you would oblige us with a private rendition?" Richard stops as LaCarlotta begins to cry. Her act good, fooling her new managers. "Unless, of course, Monsieur Reyer objects." Richard says turning to the conductor. "No, aspetta, aspetta." LaCarlotta interrupts.

"Well... If my managers command." LaCarlotta smiles at her victory. "Monsieur Reyer?" She stares at the conductor "If my diva commands." He answers. "Yes, i do. Everybody very quiet!" LaCarlotta walks away quickly, the rest of the cast following and listening. "Monsieur Lefevre, why exactly are you retiring?" Andre asks. "My health." Is the short response.

The rehearsal picks up again As LaCarlotta begins her song.

Think of me

Some maids finally place earplugs in as they continue to clean.

Think of me fondly

When we've said goodbye

Remember me

Once in awhile

A shadow stalks the railings above the set. It's glides around, an expert of the house layout.

To take your heart back and be free...

A rope is undone above. The squeak of the pulls system lets loose the banner and it descends towards LaCarlotta. Ginny spots it and scream and Hermione grabs her and pulls her back. Both of the girls pulled into Madame Weasleys embrace. A few more people scream including LaCarlotta as the banner falls on her. Not enough to injure her too much, but enough to frighten the people.

The shadow walks down the stairs, disappearing back into darkness.

"Lift her up! Lift her up!" Andre commands as the people swarm around them and lift the banner. "He's here. The Phantom of the Opera." Ginny says. She's no longer as startled than she had been when the banner first fell. Madame Weasley and Hermione both looked up to the cat walk above. Madame Weasley leave the two to go inspect.

The yelling continues but now just the wailing of LaCarlotta and the workers talking. Madame Weasley inspects the backstage and a letter idly floats down to her feet. "Please Monsieur, theres no on here. Or if there is, well then, it must be a ghost." The catwalk attendant says laughing to himself as if he finds the whole act amusing. Madame Weasley picks up the letter and stares at the red skull sealing it shut.

LaCarlotta leaves waving for them to bring her dog and box. "Bye-bye, im really leaving now!" She yells back, exciting the area. "Gentlemen, good luck." The exmanager says. "If you need me, i shall be in Australia." He smirks to himself and follows after LaCarlotta towards the exit. The conductor sighs loudly for what felt like the seventh time that day.

"Signora Giudicelli, she will be coming back, wont she?" Andre looks towards the conductor. He dramatically shrugs his shoulders and continues to prepare for his increasing headache.

"You think so, Monsieur?" Madame Weasley smiles, clearly amused. "I have a message, sir, from the Opera Ghost."

"Oh, god in heaven you're all obsessed!" Richard cries.

"He welcomes you to his opera house.-"

" _His_ opera house?"

"And commands that you continue to leave box five empty, for his use. And he reminds you that his salary is due." Madame Weasley says, pointing her sane at box five while handing over the letter. "His salary?" Richard stays exasperated. "Well Monsieur Lefevre used to give him 20,000 francs a month."

"Twenty thousand francs?" Richard rips the letter away from Andre to read this rubbish for himself. "Perhaps you can afford more, with the vicomte as your patron?" Madame Weasley says, amused by the affair. "Madame, i had hoped to make that announcement public tonight when the vicomte was to join us for the gala. But obviously we shall now have to cancel," Richard began to tear the letter up, his voice increasing as her spoke "as it appears we have lost out star!" He throws the ripped paper into the air as Andre tires to come up with ideas.

"Hermione Granger could sing it, sir." Madame Weasley cuts in.

Hermione looks up and watches the two men for an answer. Not realizing shed been wanting this part to do. Not to mention so suddenly being offered it. "What, a chorus girl? Dont be silly." Andre dismissed, Madame Weasley quickly replied "She has been taking lessons from a great teacher."

"Who?"

They all turned to hermione, who felt her hands sweat a bit at the new attention. "I dont know his name, Monsieur." Hermione said quietly, feeling foolish in front of her new managers. "Let her sing for you Monsieur. She has been well taught."

"Alright, come on. Dont be shy." Andre waits for her to approach, madame Weasleys mane falling off of her shoulder. Hermione walked forward into the light as the conductor started the music. She could hear Andre and Richard bickering about nerves and prettiness in the background but she focused on her voice. Felt the air enter her lungs as she closed her eyes and prepared.

Think of me

Think of me fondly

When we've said goodbye

Remember me once in a while

Please promise me you'll try

When you find that

Once again you long

To take your heart back

And be free

If you ever find a moment

Spare a thought for me

The workers had crowded around her amazed at her angelic voice. MAdame Weasleys eyes bore into her, a smile the only sign she was happy. Andre and Richard glanced at each other and smiled. They had their lead back.

—-

Hermione stood on stage singing, staring out into the crowd.

We never said

Our love was evergreen

Or as unchanging as the sea

But if you can still remember

Stop and think of me

Think of all the things

We've shared and seen

Dont think about the way

Things might have been

Think of me

Think of me waking

Silent and resigned

Imagine me, trying too hard

To put you from my mind

Recall those days

Look back on all those times

Think of the things we'll never do

There will never be a day

When I wont think of you

The dark figure stood under the opera house. Humming softly to herself. Pride in her chest as she heard Hermione sing.

The crowd cheered and clapped as hermione finished the song. Her tanned skin and white dress sparkled in the theater lights. Her smile making the hearts of the crowd swoon and melt.

Can it be Hermione?

"Bravo!" Harry yelled from box 5, he stood and clapped with the rest of the crowd. Planning in his head how he'd meet Hermione after the show was over. He turned around and made his way down to see if it really was Hermione.

Long ago

It seems so long ago

how young and innocent we were

Madame Weasley lurks behind a curtain, watching as Harry makes his way to Hermione. Already knowing how a certain someone will react.

She may not remember me

But I remember her

Flowers face

The fruits of summer fade

They have their seasons so do we

But please promise me

That sometimes

You will think

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-of

Me

Hermione finally ended her last note and the crowd stood and applauded her. They screamed and smiled at the amazing performance. Hermione dodged some flowers thrown on stage and looked to the side to see ginny with a big smile and her clapping the hardest.

"Brava!"

"Magnifica!"

"Stupenda!"

A maid could be seen running out of the building and heading for a carriage to tell one LaCarlotta how it went.

A shrill scream pierced the air and a thud of a fainted body.

Backstage everyone was drinking, and laughing, and talking of the events that has just taken place. Ginny made her way through searching for Hermione. She finally realized where she would be and looked around before she too, disappeared.

Ginny walked silently pass people in the hallways. The occasional couple smothering each other or some workers who still moved the set items away. Ginny eventually made it down to where Hermione was hiding. Or praying rather. Sitting in front of a picture of her mother with candles surrounding her.

She hadn't quite reached her before Hermione was visited by someone else first.

Brava, Brava, Bravissima, Hermione

Hermione smiled, she'd know that angelic voice anywhere. However, before she could revel in it too long, Ginny finally found her. "Where in the world have you been hiding? Really, you were perfect. I only wish i knew your secret." Ginny gushed to Hermione. "You is your great tutor?" she asked

"Ginny, when your mother brought me here to live... whenever I'd come down here alone, to light a candle for my mother. A voice from above and in my dreams, she was always there." Hermione continued. Pure joy and happiness in her eyes when she spoke of her tutor. "You see, when my mother lay dying, he told me i would be protected by an angel." Ginny laughed a bit but stopped seeing hermione serious expression.

"Hermione, do you believe? Do you think the spirit of your mother's coaching you?"

"Who else, Ginny. Who?" Hermione wondered aloud. She could see Ginny's concerned look and and tried to reassure her. "Mother once spoke of an angle. I used to dream she'd appear. Now as i sing i can sense her. And i know she's here." Hermione slowly stood and looked down at Ginny as she spoke softly, "Here in this room, she calls me softly. Somewhere inside, hiding. Somehow i know she's always with me. She, the unseen genius." Ginny took Hermiones hand and shook her head.

"Hermione, you must have been dreaming. Stories like this cant come true. Hermione, you're talking in riddles," Ginny was slowly dragging her out of the underground cathedral and lead her upstairs. "And its not like you." Hermione wiggled her hand out of Ginny's grasp.

Angel of music

Guide and guardian

Grant to me your glory

Who is this angle?

This angel of music

Hide no longer

Secret and strange angle

"She's with me even now," Ginny tried to reach for Hermiones hands again only to flinch back, "Your hands are so cold" She said, concern for her friend growing. "Your face, Hermione, its white. Dont be frightened, im sure rest will help you." Ginny finally pulls a smile on her face and tugs hermione to her dressing room.

In the dressing room, roses liter all sides and empty corners. Madame Weasley is there to greet hermione and get her in without being pestered by men. She turns around after shes closed the door and faces hermione. When she speaks, wrinkles appear at the corners of her mouth and eyes. "You did very well, my dear." Madame Weasley picks up a rose, a black velvet bow on toed to it. "She is very pleased with you." Hermione takes the rose. She had practiced with the phantom multiple times but never had she given her something so, personal.

Hermione didnt think to hard on it, if it was the spirit of her mother, she had nothing to worry about. Madame Weasley walked out of the room to give Hermione time to be alone. Hermione only looked on at the flower, lost in thought.

—-

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter!" Andre and Richard called. They stopped harry in the middle of a hallway. He was just on his way to see Hermione. "I think we've made quite a discovery with Miss Granger!" Richard smiled. "Perhaps we could present her to you, dear Potter?" Andre asked. Harry let out some breath and smiled politely. Madame Weasley exiting Hermiones room behind him.

"Gentlemen, if you wouldn't mind, this is one visit i should prefer to make unaccompanied... But thank you." Harry finished, grabbing some flowers from Richard and heading into Hermione room. "It would appear they've met before." Richard commented. Andre agreed with him as they watched the man disappear.

"'Mione let her mind wander. 'Mione thought, _Am i fonder of dolls or goblins or shoes?_ " Hermione smiled at the sight of Harry. She'd been waiting for him to visit her, or at least notice her. Tonight apparently did it.

"Harry."

" _Or do riddles, or frocks_?" Harry continued. Placing the flowers down in an unoccupied table, never slowing his pace towards her. "Those picnics in the attic." Hermione commented. " _Or of chocolates?_ " He stopped and looked at her. "Or mother playing the violin." Hermione said staring right back. Old feelings surfacing for the young pair. "As we read to each other dark stories of the north."

"No, what i love best, 'Mione said, is when I'm asleep in my bed, and the angle of music sings songs in my head."

Harry reached out and hugged her from his kneeling position. "You sang like an angle tonight." Hermione reveled is his hug. The smell of his messy long black hair, pulled up in what couldn't even be considered a bun. When he pulled back Hermione spoke. "My mother said, 'when im in heaven, child, i will send the angel of music to you.'"

Hermione looked away a bit said "Well, Mother is dead, Harry. And i have been visited by the angel of music."

At this Hermiones as lit up at the thought of the angel that guided her. "Oh no doubt of it. And now, we go to supper." Harry said in a joking manner but hermione was having none of it. Harry got up and started walking to the door, expecting Hermione to follow.

"No harry."

"The angel of music is very strict." Hermione said. "Well, I shan't keep you up late." The mirth in Harry's voice evident. "Harry, no." Hermione replies more urgently. She haven't left her seat and Harry spun around to look at her. "You must change. Ill order my carriage. Two minutes, Little Mione."

"No. Harry, wait!" Hermione urged, but harry had already closed the door to go to his carriage. She sighed, unaware of the key turning in her door lock. The click too silent to hear, but one person saw the event. She stood and watched as the key was turned and the shadow hurried off.

The lights were being turned off. Darkness enveloping the stage and everything around. Candles blown out and not even a rat dared stir. Hermione was tying her robe when her candles mysteriously went out. The defending silence all around her room. She waited. She knew who would come.

 _Then she appeared_

Insolent boy

This slave of fashion

Basking in your glory

Informant fool this brave young suitor

Sharing in my triumph

She quickly walked to her door but it was locked. Jiggling the handle did nothing and she turned. Ready to plead with the phantom to be easy on Harry.

Angle, i hear you

Speak, i listen

Stay by my side, guide me

Angel, my soul was weak

Forgive me

Enter at last, mistress

The shadow smiled, my did the young girl know how to use her words. She crept forward, standing behind glass she had yet to remove. Hermione wasnt so easily off of the hook.

Flattering child you shall know me

See why in shadow i hide

Look at your face in the mirror

I am there inside

The light gasp that left Hermiones mouth at the thought of finally seeing the angel her mother sent was unintentional. And completely uncontrollable. So as she walked toward the mirror, she was shocked at the image she saw.

Angel of music

Guide and guardian

Grant to me your glory

Angel of music

Hide no longer

Come to me, strange angel

She was completely mesmerized. With a white mask covering nearly her entire face, and the layered black dress, the angel was magnificent. But this woman was not her mother. Curly black hair and a posture that commanded compliance, this woman was not even close. It was too late however, Hermoine was in a trance.

I am your Angel of Music

Come to me, Angel of music

The door handle outside rattled. Harry had returned. "Whose is that voice?" The confusion at someone else in Hermiones room causing Harry to go into a panic. "Who is that in there?!"

I am your angel of music

"Hermione! Hermione!"

Come to me, Angel of music

The shadow had to act quick, so with her hand out, she pulled Hermione toward her quicker than the two expected. So with their hands together, Bella let out a raspy laugh and tugged Hermiones arm as she lead her through the secret passageway through the mirror. . Hermione was out of it completely, with the candles seemingly held by hands and the oh so soft leather of the Phantoms glove, her only instinct was to do as she was told. Her usually fast acting and highly intelligent brain was turned off and all that was left was complete and utter _need_.

In sleep she sand to me

In dreams she came

That voice which calls to me

And speaks my name

And do i dream again?

For now i find

The Phantom of the Opera is there

Inside my mind

The phantom had found a torch and lead her down twisted hallways. The sewer was lit by candles on nearly every wall. The arms that held them disappeared into walls and seemed to move out of the corner of your eye. Hermione didn't notice, she focused completely of the Phantom. Even needing help going down some slippery stairs, but the Phantom was more than willing to comply. Any excuse for the two to touch was good enough.

Sing once again with me

Our strange duet

My power over you

Grows stronger yet

And though you turn from me

To glance behind

The Phantom of their Opera is there

Inside your mind

They traveled for what felt like hours. Their song lasted for years. Their stolen glances, centuries. Everything they did was achingly slow and the tensions were high. In actuality, they traveled for only a few minutes. Fog rolled over their boat as the Phantom guided them through the water. Candles almost rising from the water just by the sheer will of the Phantom.

The finally arrived and Hermione got up, pulling her dress down as it had ridden up a little too high. The phantom got off and removed her cloak. Her intricate dress intact and without error in its laced design.

I have bought you

To the seat of sweet musics throne

To this kingdom where all must pay homage to music

Music

You have come here

For one purpose and one alone

Since the moment I first had you sing

I have needed you with me

To serve me,

To sing

For my music

My music

The stood there, far apart physically, but closer than possible. The Phantom walked towards her. She stalk slow and almost timid. Yet it screamed dominance over Hermiones whole body. Her mind and soul squished just by a look. So as the Phantom got closer, and her eyes consumed Hermiones attire, all she could do was make sure her knees didnt give out.

"What do you think, my angel?" The Phantom spook. Breath a mere whisper. "I, you're," She couldnt form a sentence, everything had shut off at the touch of the shadows hand on hers.

The phantom smiled, it was meant to be comforting but only came off as cynical. She lead Hermoine up to a curtained room, as she moved it back a large bed was presented. Thick red sheets dented down to make the bed almost like a nest. A large peacock mantle on the front of the bed, its feathers spread out to the sides to further give an enclosed feeling.

It was too much, she fainted.

Luckily, The Phantom had expected this. The girl was young, she was being overridden with new senses and feelings. All of these The Phantom hoped were good. She picked Hermione up with ease and finished the walk over. Placing Hermione in the bed and cupping her chin. _An angel indeed_.

—


End file.
